Mischief's Debt
by Zombie-Elf
Summary: Rejected and alone, Loki finds himself in the debt of a human child.
1. A Monster and a Mortal

Mischief's Debt

(Author's Note: This story came from a dream I had after watching The Avengers. It is first-person, post-Avengers, Loki POV. But aside from the dream, I am also writing based on a theroy I have that Loki may not have been in complete control over his actions during the film, so I apologize if it seems a tad OOC. Please read, review, and enjoy! Feedback welcome, flames not.)

When I first laid eyes on the little wretch, I looked and felt very much like a wretch myself. Like my brother had been years before, I had been stripped of all my power and cast out in reparation for my supposed actions

And this is how I, Loki, once considered a diety; found myself. Cold, ill, powerless, and worst of all, mortal in a freezing, rainy city the humans call Seattle. I don't know how Thor could stand feeling so weak, having always been so proud of the sheer brute force he could produce. Even at my peek I had never been known for my physical prowess, preferring to use my wits. So, naturally, where my brother may have felt uncomfortable, I felt miserable.

I don't remember much after falling into the abyss after my brief time as king of Asgard. Everything comes in flashes, and is blurry to say the least. After an incident in New York where I unleashed an army upon the humans, my brother returned me to our home to stand trial for my so-called crimes. Father did not have the heart to have me executed, so instead he sent me back to Earth to live out the rest of my days as a mere mortal. But not just any mortal. No, that would be far too easy. The most hated and hunted mortal in all the realm.

What did I want Earth for in the first place? That is a question I have been asking myself a lot lately, because in all honesty, I don't remember. I have no interest in it. It's small and weak and its inhabitants are pathetic and stupid. So imagine, if your feeble mortal mind can, the blow delt to my ego when I ended up in the debt of one of them.

It was so cold that night. Cold I could not have even comprehended before being trapped in this mortal shell. Alone in that ally, soaked to the bone from the merciless rain. Preposterous as it may seem, I was afraid I was going to die in that place like some rodent. Nobody cared for me anymore, but even I couldn't blame them.

When I began to accept the ridiculous probability of my death, he appeared. Not my brother, nor anyone from Asgard, but a slip of a human boy, no more than a decade of age or so old with dirty brown hair and strange grey eyes. "Go away." I snapped. The last thing I needed was some Avengers-crazed child to recognize me and report me to the mortal authorities.

"I said go away!" I snapped again, taking an admittedly pathetic swipe at the quiet boy. Still he didn't move. And that look he was giving me... was it pity? How dare he? I am Loki! No human has the right to pity me! "GET!"

This time the boy did move. He ran out of the ally without a word and I let out a sigh. I may not remember what I did on earth, but I remember clearly what I'd done in Asgard. This punishment, as detestable as it was, was fitting. I'd used my own ambition as a crutch, and now that crutch had been ripped away. I was already one of the creatures I hated most. Seemed only fitting to also make me the other.

When I looked up, that stupid boy was back. He was holding some sort of contraption to keep the rain off himself in one hand and a steaming bowl in the other. He crouched down so that the item that I would later learn is called an umbrella shielded me from the icy precipitation.

I stared at him, and he wordlessly pushed the bowl into my hands. It was full of a thin broth and long, thin noodles. I'm forced to admit that the smell of this soup made my stomach growl, and I swallowed it down, paying no mind that the fact that it burned my tongue and throat. This body was so weak, but already this soup (I would later learn is called Ramen Noodles) was already making me feel just slightly warmer and healthier.

Still, that boy stood there without a word until I had finished the soup. At that time he took my wrist in his small hand and pulled. "Come on." He said. I was about to reply with something scathing, for who was this brat to tell me what to do? But the words died in my mouth and to my lingering disgust, I let that boy pull me along.

He took me to an old building that looked like it had been empty for some time. Filthy, nasty place, but it was better than the streets. Still cold, but at least it kept the rain out. The room we were in had a little old bed in the center and the boy walked over and lit what I learned was a kerosene heater that sat nearby. "I come here to get away from my foster parents. But you can use it. It's not much, but it beats freezing to death out there."

I stared at him. Why on Earth would this boy want to help me? My face wasn't exactly unknown, unless the child had no access to news or information. "Do you know who I am?" I ask.

To my surprise, the boy nodded. "Yes."

"Then why help me? Aren't you Earth children supposed to hate me? Aren't you supposed to worship the heroes that defeated me?"

"Becasue you're all alone, and I know how that feels." I stared at him again, but before I could even open my mouth, he spoke again. "You have a bad fever. I could tell just by touching your wrist. So lay down before you fall down."

He knew who I was and what I'd done, but he still had the courage or audacity (likely both) to tell me what to do. "Why should I listen to you?"

The boy shrugged. "Do whatever you want. I'm not dumb enough to try and stop you. But I know that look. I see it every time I look at the other foster kids or in a mirror. One of the older kids called it the face of the unwanted. My own parents didn't want me, but I cant ignore someone else with that look. I don't care about what you did. Nobody should have to be alone."

For the first time in my life, I am rendered speechless. How is it that this puny human child could understand better than anyone this silly emotion that plagues my mind? I find myself sitting on the edge of the bed, still staring. "What is your name, boy?" I ask when at last I find my voice.

"Blake." he replied. "You get warmed up and try to sleep. I'll bring you some more food and some medicine in the morning. Don't worry. I won't tell anybody about you." And just like that, he was gone.

I lay down and cover myself in the blankets and stared at the heater. I shiver and I am forced to admit that if not for Blake, I would likely be dead by morning.

Wonderful. The once mighty God of Mischief was in the debt of a human child. But this child hadn't helped me because he expected some kind of reward, nor out of fear for his life. He helped me because... Because he knows what it's like to feel so alone.

I now understand that the look he gave me was not pity, but empathy. He may be mortal, but he understands. Perhaps there are worse fates than being in his debt.


	2. What I Never Had

(Author's Note: This story was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but due to touching, positive response from both friends and readers, I have decided to make this into a full-length fanfiction. Special thanks to Ana, Jess, Ashley, and Zannah for all your help and support!)

My dreams that night were not pleasant ones. I tossed and turned on the small bed as images of beasts with no name tearing into my flesh flooded my ill, exhausted mind. One of them leaned in, grabbing me by the front of my head, snarling viciously. My eyes snapped open and I jerked back. Looking around, I saw there were no monsters. I was in that abandoned room, and that boy from the night before had been touching my forehead. "What are you doing?" I demanded.

The boy had flinched a bit when I jerked away and shouted at him, but he didn't look upset and seemed to take the whole thing in stride. "Checking your temperature." He replied with a simple shrug. "You still have a fever, but It doesn't seem to be as bad as it was before."

He walked over to the heater and stirred something in a small cooking pot that he had set on top. "I was sort of worried that you wouldn't make it through the night, but I couldn't exactly take you to the hospital. Everybody knows what you look like."

For some reason, even though I didn't remember why, this didn't surprise me. My ego may not have been as inflated as my brother's, but it was still there. If I were to try a hostile takeover of the human world, I'd want an audience for it. Keeping a low profile wasn't exactly my style. "It would seem I've found myself in your debt then." The words had a foul taste.

The boy shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Like I said last night, I couldn't just leave you there. It wouldn't be right." He emptied the contents of the pot into a bowl and handed it to me along with a spoon. I stared at it, as it looked utterly unappetizing. It was a thick, grayish mush with little orange chunks it it. It had a pleasant smell though. Like some kind of fruit.

"Peach oatmeal." The the boy explained. "We didn't have anything else, or I would have brought you maple. Grownups like maple more than peach most of the time."

I looked at him, then took a bite. It was very sweet, and tasted much better than it looked. I sighed and looked back up at him. "Listen, boy..."  
"Blake." He corrected without hesitation. Audacious indeed. "My name is Blake. And if it's all the same to you, that's what I'd like to be called."

I stared at him. If what was said about what'd I'd done was true, a few months ago I wouldn't have hesitated to kill this boy where he stood. But I sighed and continued. "Blake, then. I hate to admit it, but you have done me a great service, and were it still in my power to do so, I would reward you for your actions. However I cannot help but wonder. I know you said you helped me out of understanding, but you can't possibly begin to comprehend this." He was a human child after all, and even adult humans were stupid, base animals.

Blake shrugged, as if uninterested. "No. I can't comprehend all of it. I mean I have no idea how you ended up here after you kinda sorta decided to free an army of aliens on New York City and kill a whole bunch of people. Yeah, I don't get that part."

"If you know I did all those things, then why aren't you afraid of me? You speak to me as if I were another human, without fear or reverence." This was something I truly wanted to know. This boy may be a stupid human, but he had nerves I have seldom seen before.

"I am. Afraid I mean." He replied. "I mean, you're Loki. If you wanted to, you could probably squish me like a bug right here. But fear isn't something you should waste your time on, especially when someone needs your help. Bad things happen every day, and there's nothing we can do about it. So why worry?"

His answer was simple, yet spoke volumes. I chuckled, but my laughter cost me and I began to cough painfully. Damn this mortal body and all it's weaknesses.

Once the fit had subsided a little, Blake was in front of me again. Holding out two small capsules and a bottle of water. "Take these. They'll knock your fever down a bit."

I looked at the little pills for a moment, my trickster's mind at once thinking 'poison'. But if this child had wanted me dead, he would only have had to left me where he found me and allow the elements to end me. So I put them in my mouth and swallowed them, triggering another coughing fit. The boy pointed at the bottle in my other hand and I gulped down several mouthfuls. It helped a great deal, and I let out a sigh when I had downed half of the bottle.

The boy was unloading a basket from the back of a contraption I recognized. I believe it was called a bicycle. Clever little contraption. Not as fast as a horse, but you didn't have to feed it or bathe it. He set the basket down and emptied it. "I've got some Ramen, some Easy Mac, some more oatmeal, a couple Luncables, some cans of soup. All really easy stuff. I dunno if you've ever seen any of it before, but the directions are on the packets and they're super simple. There's only one cooking pot, so you'll have to rinse it after each use. The water still works and there's a bathroom in the back, but all the water's cold, so don't take a shower until you're feeling better. There's some more kerosene for the heater in the back of the room too."

Blake walked over to where he'd motioned and brought over a large red container with a yellow spout and poured into a small opening at the base of the heater. I watched him with mild interest, as I had never used any of this equipment before and would need to know how in order to keep myself warm at night. Not that I intended to stay in this little shack forever.

"I also brought some stuff incase you get bored." He pulled out several very thin books, a few thicker ones, a newspaper, and a little box. The boy flipped a switch on the box and at once, a slightly grating sort of music began to emanate from it. "Ever see a radio before?" He asked.

I shook my head. "Not that I remember."

"Okay. This dial changes the station. Just scroll through until you find some music that you like. This one changes how loud it is."

I nodded absently. It was embarrassing to have to be told how to do something by a human boy. I probably would have been able to figure it all out myself if my head didn't feel so fuzzy. Instead I bent down and picked up one of the thin books. It had a brightly colored illustration on the front and a title that read "Captain America." I recognized that one at once and looked at the boy. "Is this some kind of a joke?"

Blake looked surprised at my reaction, then saw what I was holding. He snatched it away quickly, not meeting my eyes. "Sorry. That comic wasn't supposed to go in there. I just kinda grabbed a whole bunch and headed out."

He looked so sheepish and remorseful that I almost felt guilty for snapping at him. But now wasn't the time to feel guilt. I cleared my throat, trying to bury the emotion. "Just don't let it happen again." I picked up the remaining books, 'comics' and looked at each in turn. Spiderman, X-Men, The Punisher, Blade. All were by someone called Marvel. The last one I picked up was called The Walking Dead, and seemed to be the only one in the stack not written by this Marvel person. There were also three regular-looking books, but all had unfamiliar titles. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, The Lord of the Rings, and the Hunger Games.

When I looked up again, not sure if I was going to thank the boy or just look at him, Blake was putting on a backpack and getting on his bicycle. "Where are you going?" I asked.

"Back to the home." He replied. "Nobody was up when I left, but they will be soon. I'll be in huge trouble if I'm not in bed when they come to wake us. I'll come and see how you're doing later today. Just make sure you eat and take those pills again in a few hours. Oh, and drink lots of water."

Then he was gone. I was a little perplexed by what he meant by 'the home'. Was it his home or wasn't it? Why would he say 'the' before speaking about it. I was here on Earth now with no company save that of a strange human boy with empty eyes. The boy was quiet and didn't ask questions. Something I should have been glad for, but at the same time it was disconcerting. Human children were reputed to by wild and hyper and to never shut up. What cruelties had this child experienced to turn him into the exact opposite?

But best not to dwell on it for now. I picked up that Hunger Games book and read for a while, but halfway through chapter two, I found myself thinking of my brother. The main character's little sister had just been chosen to go to the capitol and fight to the death, but the main character had volunteered to take her place.

There was a time when Thor would have done that for me without hesitation. But would he still, given all I had done? I suspect not. I'm not exactly someone worth saving anymore. Besides, odds are if our places were exchanged, I wouldn't have volunteered to save him. I was never the brave or chivalrous one. That was all him. Everything was him. I found myself wondering how he was, and if he still cared for me on some level, but I wouldn't get my hopes up. Even if he did, he'd severed any ties to me. Besides, I'm not his brother anyway. I'm just an adopted Frost Giant, taken from my home as an infant to use as a bargaining chip.

I threw the book across the room with a furious cry, but it was about all the energy I had. I fell back down to the bed and curled into a tight ball. To my own self-disgust, I was weeping. I missed my brother. I missed mother and father. I missed my friends. I missed having a family. Except that I never had a family. Not a real family. So I missed something I never had to begin with...

.


	3. Checkmate

(Author's Note: This chapter gave me a good bit of trouble. So I went to the movies and watched the Avengers again. It seemed to help inspire. The dialogue from the beginning of the chapter was borrowed from one of my favorite 90s films. If you can name it, you win the internet! But as always, read and review! Flames with be used on my marshmallows.

"Check."

Blake's voice broke my concentration and I looked up, staring at him. I had been focused on the little black and white checkered board, plotting my next move, and this was terribly distracting. "What do you mean 'check'?"

The boy shrugged nonchalantly. "I mean check. My bishop's got your king." He was sitting across from me in a little folding chair and I sat on the edge of the bed, a beat up sort of card table between us.

I stared back down at the board. This game was very similar to one we played in Asgard. A game by the name of Gethre. The basic principals were the same. You used strategy to take your opponent's castle. Only in this game... the castle was one of the pieces playing. "Where?" I asked, running my eyes over the board yet again."

"There" Blake replied, pointing to the strange little black piece with what appeared to be a frowning mouth an a little round nose, then motioning in a diagonal direction toward my tall white piece with a cross on top. "You either have to move someone in front, or move out of the way."

As irritating as it was to have to be taught a game of strategy by an eleven-year-old boy, I had to admit that this was a game I could enjoy one I had mastered it. It was simple in concept, but so complex and strategic once put into practice. I moved a piece shaped like a horses head in an L position and put it in front of my king.

I had been here for three weeks, and after my illness had subsided and I was able to wash myself in the (albeit cold) washroom, I felt, healthier, cleaner, and I suppose a little happier. Blake had also gone out of his way to make me as comfortable as possible. He'd cleaned up in here a bit, continued to bring me food and books, and had somehow managed to procure some clothes in my size.

So now I sat wearing a pair of dark canvas pants called jeans, and a black hooded sweater that was a little too large for me, playing chess with the child that had saved my life. Our hands moved on the field and we were silent until the boy spoke up. "Say it."

"Say what?"

"Checkmate. You got me." He pointed down at the pieces, my queen had his king cornered and one of my castles had blocked off his only escape. I was surprised, this being my fist time playing this game, and a small smile crept onto my face. It was by far my favorite of the games we had played so far. Infinitely better than Connect Four and Hungry Hungry Hippos, the latter of which seemed to annoy Blake every bit as much as it annoyed me.

"Are you sure you've never played this before?" Blake was looking it me with a strange little smirk, his eyebrow slightly raised. It was a bit surreal, almost like looking into a mirror.

"We have a similar strategy game in Asgard. The pieces move differently, but it's the same basic principal."

He nodded, collecting the pieces in silence for a moment, then looking up at me. He let out a sigh as if he didn't want to say what was on his mind. "Loki, I told myself I wouldn't ask you any personal questions, but now I feel like I have to. Why did you do it? Why did you try to take over the world?"

I sighed and looked away. This question. I admit I knew he would ask sooner or later. It wasn't exactly normal to harbor a war criminal and not ask him a thing or two, so it was only inevitable that this question would come up. "In all honesty, I don't remember."

I could see in the boy's grey eyes that he didn't entirely believe me. I sighed. "I'm telling you the truth. But if I were to guess, I'd say it would be for revenge. Not a threat, as I don't respond very well to threats. And as for wan't to rule Midgard, that just seems absurd. But I can see myself wanting to take revenge on it. Yes... that was probably it."

"Why?" Blake asked. "What did we do to you to make you hate us so much?"

I looked at him. This child never failed to surprise me with his boldness. Had he lived in Asgard, I had no doubt that a boy with his foolish yet guarded courage would have been raised as a warrior, but he had the mind of a tactician. "I hated one of you." I replied with a sigh. "I hated her because my brother loved her. Because she made him soft and weak."

Why was I telling him any of this? It was really none of his business. I should have told him to bugger off and leave me alone. Why didn't I? I suppose it was because he was decent enough company. "But like I said, I don't remember the exact reason why I did it."

This seemed to satisfy the boy for a little while, but he drew his knees up and looked at me intently. "What was your family like? You said you had a brother. Parents too?'

Now that question was starting to get into territory that I would prefer not to talk about. I glared at him, for who did he think he was? My friend? No. Stupid child.. "They cast me out and disowned me. I have no family."

The boys eyes softened. "That's me as well. I asked you all these questions, but you really don't know anything about me except that my name is Blake and I bring you food and books and keep you hidden from the cops." He swallowed. "I live in a group home. It's basically a place where they put children that nobody wants. I don't suppose they have places like that in Asgard..."

Blake had accepted the whole concept of Asgard and the fact that I was once the God of Mischief with little scepticism. After all, he had watched an army pour from a hole in the sky on the news a few months ago. I looked away though, turning my glare elsewhere in the room. "No. In Asgard we keep our children, whether we want them or not. But if we truly can no longer stand to have them around, we cast them out... to here." I motioned around me, indicating Earth. That should make it clear enough to the boy exactly what my family thought of me.

Blake lowered his eyes. He looked embarrassed and rueful. "I didn't mean to upset you..."

"Well, you did." I hissed with more venom that I intended, but something snapped in me when he apologized. Upset me? What did he expect? Did he think I would simply take it in stride, maybe speak to him as if he were a counselor? How dare he? "That's what you humans are good at doing after all. You don't have to toy with one another's emotions, because you are blunt with them to begin with. And you meddle! I have never met a more meddlesome race of beings! You change my brother, you unearth the Tesseract..."

The Tesseract... the humans had unearthed it? How did... White eclipsed my vision and it felt as if someone had shoved a red-hot poker through my skull. Then visions came. They came in flashes and fragments like a shattered stained-glass window that that an old woman was trying to put back together.

I stole the Tesseract. I used it. Not like this. I manipulated those men. I stabbed that agent in the back. Not me. Who? No. My brother, trying to talk sense into me. The army. I summoned the army. The Chitauri... Help me. Wake me!

I blacked out then, anything to escape these waking nightmares. I don't know if I dreamt or not, for I seemed simply to be falling through the void. It was almost amusing, as this wasn't the first nothingness I had fallen through. When I came out of the last abyss, I came out a psychopath and a dictator. What would I be when I come out of this nullity? Was it worth coming out at all.

"Loki!"

Someone was calling my name. That was different at least. Last time, I was utterly alone. There was absolutely nothing around me.

"Loki!" That voice again. This time it felt like someone was shaking me.

It was still dark. Of course it was. My eyes were closed. I opened them slowly, and Blake was hovering over me, his young face fraught with concern. Somehow I had ended up on the floor.

Before I could ask him what had happened, he stood up and wheeled around quickly so his back was to me, picking up an aluminum baseball bat and holding it tightly in both hands. "You leave him alone! He doesn't need any of you lot to make things worse for him!"

There was some sort of familiarity in the boy's voice. And it sounded so protective and fierce, had I been currently in touch with my emotions, I would have felt something.

"You misunderstand my intentions, brave lad. I mean him no harm."

I knew that voice. I sat up as quickly as I could, my head throbbing and keeping me from sitting up further. When I looked over, I saw the last person I expected to see. "Thor..."

He looked at me, and a sad smile passed over his face. "Hello brother."


	4. Beast of Frost

(Author's Note: Lord, this is hard! This was a very difficult chapter to write, despite how short it is. After this, there will be one or two more chapters, depending on how it goes. However, I may post an alternate ending as another. So, let me know what you think! Please read and review!)

"I'm warning you!" Blake growled at Thor. "You leave him alone!" I knew the boy was foolish, but to threaten the god of thunder without the slightest inkling of fear in his voice was stupidity beyond anything I had ever seen. He told me he had watched the news and seen everything Thor and the others had done. Which meant he knew that he could both fly and summon lightning at will, AND that he was strong enough to easily bench a horse. Then again, maybe it wasn't stupidity, but rather courage. Thor himself even called him brave, and was smiling at him with something resembling approval in his eyes.

What are you doing here, Thor?" I asked, pulling myself to my feet. I felt a strange torrent of emotion. I was happy, I was furious, but most of all, I was confused. Why in Heaven's name would be be here? Keeping tabs on me, I suppose, to keep me from causing any more mischief. Though I wondered what sort of mischief he thought I could possibly conjure in my current state. Maybe he was afraid I would vandalize a convenience store or something equally juvenile.

My brother looked startled by my question, as if he could not understand why he SHOULDN'T be here. "I was worried about you, brother." He replied, cobalt eyes softening. "I could feel your agony, even from Asgard. I had to see for myself that you were alright."

Before I could say a word, Blake spoke up again. "His agony? You and your friends are the reason he has agony! Why are you really here? Did you come here to finish him off? Because if you did, I won't let you!"

Thor stared down at the boy, then chuckled kindly. "It seems you found yourself a courageous protector, Loki."

Where I was surprised and perhaps slightly touched by the fact that Blake had stood up for me against someone he knew was much more powerful than himself, the way Thor spoke made it sound belittling to my ears, and I glared at the pair of them. "Be silent, Blake." I snapped, turning my attention back to my brother. "You came here only because you were worried about me, not because the All Father changed his mind about not executing me, or to make sure I wasn't causing trouble?" Thor had never had any talent for lying, having an honest, trusting nature to begin with and having no poker face whatsoever when he DID attempt to lie.

Thor nodded. "As I said, I could feel your pain. The memories of what happened after you fell from the Bifrost..."

"After you dropped me." I corrected venomously.

He stared at me again, this time looking utterly shocked, and more than a little pained. "Loki... You let go. I had you, and you let go. I did everything I could to save you, brother. Has your memory become so distorted?"

It was my turn to stare now. What did he mean, 'you let go.'? I distinctly remember the fight. He tossed me into the blackness, and I fell, then nothing. That's what happened! Wasn't it? Pain surged through my skull again and I sat down on the bed to steady myself. "What is happening to me?" I asked, unaware that I had spoken aloud.

"Your memories are returning..." Thor said grimly, sitting down on the bed next to me and looking at me with that stupid, concerned face of his. Blake was also watching us, keeping a suspicious eye on Thor in case he were to try and hurt me.

My brother took a deep, unsure breath and continued. "When I brought you back to Asgard, father believed that you were not entirely yourself when you attempted to conquer this realm, but were rather trapped within yourself. A helpless observer. And I belive him. I could see it in your eyes on a few different occasions before and during the battle in New York. Your eyes said 'help me' and it tore me apart. Father determined that it would be too dangerous to pull you out of yourself while you still had those memories, for he believes that if you are who you once were, the guilt of it would destroy you. So he had those memories erased, and because you had done what you'd done, aware or not, he turned you into a mortal and casted you to this place."

I looked at him, a plethora of emotions fighting for dominance in my heart and mind. Should I be grateful or angry? Happy or enraged? Odin had taken my memories along with my power and immortality, but to save me. "Why didn't he execute me, if I needed to be punished anyway?" I demanded. "Suppose that he is wrong, and I did what I did of my own free will?"

Thor sighed sadly. "Many called for your execution Loki. Others suggested you be bound until Ragnarok. Father could not, and would not do it. You are his son, and he loves you." He said this so firmly, as if to convince me. "Even if he had, there is no way mother or I would have allowed it. Despite of everything you've done, we still love you."

I looked away. How could they still love me? Any of them? I may not remember what I had done here, but I had tried to kill Thor. I had nearly killed Odin. I used the Bifrost to attempt to destroy Jotunheim and set the Destroyer on a small Earth town. Not only that, I was a Frost Giant. Son of Odin's greatest enemy. Why would any of them care about me now? "That still doesn't explain why you're here." I said finally.

"Is it not enough to say that I miss you?" He asked with a smile, but he could tell that I was in no mood to jest. "It took some doing. Many pleas, and many tears, but Mother and I managed to convince father to return you to Asgard. You're coming home, Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard."

I sat there dumbfounded, looking back up at my brother. Home? I get to go home? This was impossible. Almost too good to be true. After all I had done, surely the only reason that Odin would agree to send me home would be to sentence me to death. But there was no lie in Thor's eyes. There never was. I actually smiled, for the first time in recent memory, I felt happy. But if I left, what would become of-

"You can't!" Blake cried out suddenly. We had almost forgotten he was standing there, watching and listening intently to our conversation, but now we were both looking at him. He looked so furious he was red in the face, his small hands balled into fists. He was glaring at Thor, looking like he was somewhere between bursting into tears and punching him in the face. "You can't take him! He's my friend, and he's the only one I've got!"

I felt a wave of affection toward this boy wash over me, and I opened my mouth to say something reassuring and kind to the boy that had saved my life and defended me when he thought I was in danger, but something else overpowered it. Something feral and angry. "How DARE you?" I shouted, getting to my feet and looking down at the child with a snarl. "You dare to assume that you are a high enough being to consider yourself my friend? I think not, you stupid, foolish brat! You are nothing more than an unwanted, uncivilized son of a lesser species!" What was I saying? That is not what I meant to say to him at all. Is this what I had become? Is this what I truly was?

"But if you-"

"SILENCE!" Before I knew what I was doing, the back of my hand had collided with Blake's face. He stood there, staring up at me in shock and horror, putting a hand to his reddening cheek. His grey eyes were no longer empty, but filled with tears.

That was when I realized what I had done, and my eyes widened in disbelief at my own actions as I stared down at the was that? Was that me? No. I couldn't have been. I know now that I am far worse than who I was when I usurped Asgard or tried to take Earth. I was nothing but another beast in a long line of monsters that had hurt this child.

"Blake, I..." But it was too late to take it back. The boy had turned and run out of the building. I followed after him without hesitation, ignoring Thor as he called after me. What had I done? Could I make things right? It was more than just the debt I owed him...

I was faster than I thought I would be in this body, and Blake was only a few yards ahead of me. "Blake! Please wait!" I called.

"Leave me be!" The boy cried without looking back. "You have your home and your family! You don't need me anymore!"

Those words stung more than I ever could imagine they would. They hit my straight in the heart. That wasn't true. I cared for this boy. This boy was my friend. No matter what the thing inside me had said, I cared. I loved him as a brother! I had to tell him I was sorry. I had to make it right. He was the only human that would ever look upon me with anything other than hatred. The only human that would look upon me as a friend.

He turned sharply as I nearly reached him, running out into the road. He didn't see the jeep barreling towards him, but I did. Without thinking I leapt off the curb and wrapped my arms around the boy, shielding him as much as I could as the vehicle slammed into my side and threw us to the pavement.


	5. The Prodigal Son

(Author's Note: I can honestly say I hate this chapter. It feels so contrived to me. But my opinion on it doesn't matter. What matters to me is what you, my wonderful, supportive readers think. So please let me know! I apologize for it's shortness and overall suckage. Final chapter up soon!)

Agony ripped through me when I hit the concrete, Blake falling from my arm as the impact loosed my grip. I hit my head hard and my vision swam and flashed. I knew I had several broken bones, and that I was bleeding but I didn't know the extent of the damage, nor did I care at that moment. My only concern was for the child.

Where was he? I searched for him with my damaged vision, spotting him as the people on the sidewalk began to converge on us. He lay motionless, blood oozing slowly from a cut above his brow. "Blake..." I groaned, trying to crawl over to him. I tasted blood, and every motion felt like my body had been set on fire. I couldn't reach him.

"Loki!" I vaguely recognized my brother's voice and I felt him pull me into a sitting position. It hurt so badly, but still, that didn't matter to me. He could feel him rifling through his bag, and knew he was looking for a healing stone. "Blake..." I gasped out. "Give it to Blake." I tried to point, but my arm wouldn't work.

If that child died, it would be all my fault. No matter what I had become, I knew I would not be able to live with myself. What if he was already dead? He was so still that it was almost certain.

I tried to pull myself out of my brother's arms, but the effort was more than I could take and my vision began to spot and fade. Was I dying? That wouldn't surprise me, but I couldn't die before knowing that Blake was alright. As my eyes darkened, I thought I saw the boy open his. Wishful thinking? Please don't let it be wishful thinking. Let him be alright. Let him live.

"Help him... Please... Please help him..." I whispered as my world faded to black.

...

Everything was dark, save for occasional flashes of red or yellow. While this was annoying, it was warm, and the pain was gone. If this was death, it wasn't overly terrible. Perhaps if I allowed myself to fade into it, the flashes would fade and I would simply dwell in this warm darkness. So that was what I focused on.

As I tried to push myself further into what I perceived to be death, I felt warmer, and the pain had returned. It wasn't as severe as it had been before, as if it was a very old wound. The darkness was also fading, becoming steadily lighter. That was when I felt a soft, gentle hand stroking my brow. I opened my eyes, expecting to see Blake checking my temperature and holding a bowl of soup, but the sadly smiling face I saw above me was one I did not expect at all. "Mother...?"

Frigga's smile broadened just slightly. "Hello Loki." She said kindly. "Welcome home my sweet boy."

I sat up a bit, wincing with the effort and realized that I was in Asgard's Healing Room, and feeling a weight beside me, I looked over to see Thor sitting in a chair, fast asleep with his big, blonde head resting on the bed, snoring lightly. "He hasn't left your side since he brought you here." Frigga explained. "He was so worried. If he hadn't brought you here when he had, would have lost you."

I had to be dreaming. There was simply no way that she would be so happy to see me now. She had been witness to some of my crimes, and knew of the others. "What happened, mother? What happened to..." That was when it hit me. "Blake? Where's Blake?" I asked quickly, looking around stupidly, as if expecting to see the Earth being in the bed beside me.

Frigga shook her head softly, a sad expression on her face. "I don't know Loki. I don't have that answer."

I stared at her, opening my mouth to speak when I heard a sleepy groan beside me, and knew that my sudden movement had woken Thor. He blinked a few times, and his stupid face split into a big grin when he saw me awake. "Brother!" He pulled me into an embrace, but I didn't return it. "Where's Blake?" I asked softly.

Thor let go and looked at me, his expression concerned and uncertain. "Loki, I..."

"WHERE IS HE?" I snapped.

He sighed, avoiding eye contact. "The human medics took him away in their truck. He is in good hands."

I stared at him, fury flooding me. "You left him in the hands of those barbaric would-be healers that can barely stitch a wound without causing infection?" I demanded. "I told you to help him! Why didn't you?"

"Because you would have died, Loki. I didn't have any healing stones with me, and I knew that they could take care of him. I had to get you back here as quickly as I could, your body was utterly broken."

"He could be dead now!" I snapped. "He could be dead, and it would be my fault!" My voice cracked, and I tried to get up, both Thor and my mother holding be down with ridiculous ease.

"Don't strain yourself Loki." Frigga said softly, wearing an expression I had not been able to argue with as a child. "Your father is looking down on Earth right now to check on him. Please rest, for all of our sakes."

I lowered my eyes, running a hand through my hair. I was still so tired, and I was still in pain, so it's not as though I could fight them. Odin was looking in on Blake? Why did I find that hard to believe? I still found it hard to believe I was back in Asgard.

"I remember what I did." I said to them, watching their faces. Thor's did not change, but Frigga looked sad. "We know, dear." She said softly. "We all knew it was only a matter of time before it returned to you. I don't know if we should have taken them in the first place. But no matter what you've done, you're still our son, Loki."

"And you are still my brother." Thor added. "I will admit that I have not entirely forgiven you, but I love you no matter what. You should go back to sleep for now. You will have answers soon, I promise." His expression was so concerned, so sincere that I felt of wave of some emotion long buried and I leaned back against the soft pillows.

I thought only of Blake as I closed my eyes, and found myself praying that he was alright. I know, it seems absurd, a god praying to another god for something, but I was desperate. As darkness took me once, again, I expected to wake up on Earth in one of their archaic hospitals, prevented from escaping by human police. But I didn't care about that as long as Blake was alright.


	6. A Debt Repaid

(Author's Note: Final chapter people. More notes at the end. And now for something slightly different.)

In the following months, Loki barely spoke to any of us. He spent most of his time shut up in his room reading something or another. Father had restored his immortality and his title, but had not yet restored his power, as he was afraid some of the darkness may still linger in his heart. Our friends were not exactly cruel to him, but they treated him with a mild neglect. Like one would treat a stray cat that kept coming back to your door.

I worried about him greatly during this time. Even when he was trapped in madness, he retained his wit and sense of humor. But now he seemed so very empty. He wasn't even angry anymore. He was an utterly blank canvas, even Hogun showed more personality. He still put up with my company when I would go visit him, even teaching me this game he had learned on Earth called chess (though I have to say I am no good at it), but our conversations were hardly worth anything. Anything I would ask him was answered with either a nod, a shake of the head, or a curt, one-word reply.

For the most part, he would leave his room once a day, always to see Heimdall. It was no great secret that the Gatekeeper and the Mischief Maker loathed one another, but visiting him was the only way Loki could check on Blake. The admirable child had survived the accident with nothing more than a broken wrist and a gash above his brow, but was no doubt in my mind that had Loki not been there, the child would have died. Whether Loki knew it or not, he had repaid the debt he owed to the lad.

I ascended the staircase to his chambers, unsure of exactly what I was going to say to him. It was tearing me apart to see Loki so apathetic and pained, so I was doing everything in my power to change that. Granted, there was very little I really could do, but I tried!

I raised my hand and knocked on the door lightly, and was greeted with "Enter." And enter I did. Loki was sitting at his table and reading, as per usual. But there was something different about him today. It was so drastically different that it took my mind a moment to register exactly what it was.

Loki was smiling. This wasn't the usual, mischievous smile that he wore when he was about to make some sort of trouble. No, this was the smile of someone who was genuinely happy.

I couldn't help but smile myself at this beautiful, welcome sight and I sat down across from him. "What has happened to put you in such high spirits, brother?" I asked without thinking. I hoped that my words didn't insult him in some way, for I would hate for his smile to fade now that it had returned.

But it didn't fade. If anything it had broadened as he looked at me. "He's been adopted." Loki replied. "Taken in by a good family that will love him and treat him well."

I clapped my hands together excitedly. "This is wonderful news!" I said. "We simply must celebrate!"

But Loki shook his head at this suggestion. "Thor, I am still in no fit state to be celebrating anything. But I am happy, at least, that Blake was able to find some joy after the world and I had been so cruel to him."

I stared at him for a moment, seeing the hint of sadness that was in his eyes, fighting for dominance with his joy. "Loki, you were not yourself when you said those things. And you saved his life. Don't forget that."

Loki nodded but I could tell it wasn't sincere. He seemed to sense that he didn't fool me and let out a sigh. "I'm just glad he's happy now."

"It's because of you that he's alive and can be happy." I replied. When my brother didn't answer, I opted to change the subject. "Why don't you get out that chess game? I have a sneaking suspicion that I may beat you this time." I grinned.

Loki looked a bit incredulous at the thought. "Oh, I doubt it." But he smirked and retrieved the board from his shelf, setting it up on the table between us. There were not chess pieces in Asgard, and since father had not yet restored Loki's magic, he'd made everything by hand from white quartz and jet. I never took my brother for much of a craftsman, but these were beautiful and glistened in the light.

"Black or white?" He asked after he had set up all the pieces.

"White." I replied. Maybe if I went first this time, I may stand a chance. So Loki turned the side of the board with the quartz pieces towards me carefully, and motioned for me to make the first move.

"Now that you are in a much better mood, do you think you'll actually start coming down for meals again?" I asked as I moved one of the little pawns out onto the field two spaces. "We miss you at dinner, and our friends keep asking about you."

Loki rolled his eyes as he made his first move. "If your friends were at all interested in how I was fairing, they would come see me themselves instead of asking you to check up on me. They disliked me even before the whole banishment incident, and only put up with me because I am your brother"

My heart clenched a bit when I heard this, particularly how he said 'your' friends instead of 'our', but I had to lower my eyes and admit to myself that this was not entirely untrue. Yes, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three had once thought of Loki as a friend, but they had never bonded with him as they had me. Sif in particular was cold to him. "Well... mother and father miss seeing you. Will you not come down?"

He sighed and looked at me rather pointedly. "I will, for your sake, and for mother's. I honestly don't think Odin is quite ready to accept me back as his son just yet. It's your turn by the way." He went quiet after this. I knew he wanted to say more, but this was the most progress we'd made in months, so I didn't want to push it.

"How are they, by the way?" Loki asked as I moved my little horse piece. "Your friends I mean."

I felt surprised and a little happy that he was asking about them. Perhaps we had made more progress than I had thought. "Fandral is still flirtatious, Hogun is still grim, Volstagg is still hungry, Sif is still fierce."

"Then all is right with the world." He replied with a familiar smile. A trickster's smile.

Even though it was the trickster in him that had gotten Loki into so much trouble in the first place, it was as much a part of who he was as his dark hair and green eyes. It filled me with joy beyond measure to see this part of my brother returned. "I spoke with father last night."

"About what?" Loki asked mildly, taking my little horse with his queen.

"About your request regarding Blake." He looked up at me when I said this, real interest in his eyes. "I wasn't able to convince him to allow you to bring him here. He said something along the lines of 'Asgard is no place for a human'."

Loki nodded grimly as if he had been expecting that. "But?'

"But I did manage to convince him to allow you to visit him once in a while. With an escort of course."

I flashed him a cheeky grin, but he ignored it entirely. His entire face had lit up in a way that I had not seen in years. There was joy in his eyes. Real, true joy. "How did you do it?" He asked quickly, sounding almost like a child again himself.

"If you nag him enough, even Odin All Father will give in eventually." I laughed. "Besides, I couldn't stand to see you so sad anymore, and when it comes down to it, neither could he. You're his son, and he loves you. We all love you. Please, try not to forget that this time. We miss the playful trickster you once were. Bring him back to us."

Emotion flashed in Loki's eyes and he looked away. "I'll see if there is anything I can do to bring him back to life. I believe it's your turn, brother." He smiled at me then, and I felt warmth wash over me.

I moved my little castle three squares to the right, threatening Loki's queen, when he moved her without hesitation and said. "Checkmate." With a grin. "You really are awful at this Thor. At least Blake was good."

I laughed, and after a moment, he laughed too. I don't know if things can ever truly be the way the were between us once upon a time, but this was a good start. Forgiveness still had to be earned, trust still had to be rebuilt, and pain still had to be eased. But I truly belive that there is room in both my heart and Loki's for all of this. All thanks to the boy that had rescued and redeemed the God of Mischief.

(Author's note: Well, that was cheese stuffed with cheese, cheesy ending. When I first started writing this, I had a much darker ending in mind. But when it came down to it, I was unable to bring myself to write it. I may eventually post it as an alternate ending, but I have yet to decide. If you liked Blake, feel free to use him in any of your works! Just make sure you let me know so that I may read and review myself. ALSO! If any of my readers are artists, I would be flattered to see some fanart from this story, particularly of Blake. Inform me either here, on my tumblr (son-of-a-mother-father-figure) or on my deviantart (LadyAbhorsen) Thank you all so much for your kindness and support. I couldn't have done this without you!


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